Bones Of Contention: The McKinnon Legends - The American Men Book 3 (24 page)

Indebting the Maji even more was the fact the same family purchased and then gifted a small string of private islands aiding the Maji in establishing a country and new government. Included in that independence were an army and a security force to guard the monarch and his family.

The message sent to King Jacob of the Maji was designed to let him know that regardless of how guarded and safe he might think his family to be, they were still vulnerable when dealing with the Fae. He could prove the Sidhe Fae were a far more cunning race than any gave them credit. Desperation was only a small part of what was driving him.

The treaty was with the humans, not the Maji. He had no real desire to enrage them, so he would leave them alone unless they unwisely chose to enter the fray. However, he did not wish them to align with the humans or the Fae king. They were an unknown factor in this game he was embarking upon, and since there was no treaty with the Maji, children were fair game. Family was the best and worst weapon as the king was no doubt just discovering.

Jamie sat quietly on her lounge chair soaking up the morning sunlight and wishing the seagulls would shut up. She was hung over from the wine she imbibed, understanding now why her mother advised her repeatedly over the years never to drink.

She popped two more Tylenol, praying the drummers in her head would just go away and take the damn birds with them.

Even through the fog of her brain, she did not miss the armed bodyguard who hung discreetly back. Undoubtedly it was Josh’s doings, she acknowledged inwardly, while still managing to ignore him. She was too tired, confused, hurt, and hung over to care. She would take it up with Josh later when she felt strong enough to speak to him. After the dreams she had experienced the previous night, she seriously doubted she could be in the same room and not beg him to take her. How humiliating would that be, she asked herself. Too humiliating was her deduction.

The beach was fairly quiet. It was just after nine in the morning. The usual locals were walking their dogs and the trio of runners passing by were toned, she noted. They ran with exacting movements totally in sync, their body's movements and cadences were in perfect time with the other. Jamie could see that these three ladies spent a lot of time running together to have that much precision. Jamie decided she already hated those women for making her look bad for not exercising as she should. Having Josh and all his detail around had hampered her in several ways, and her daily exercise had suffered. Had it not been for Josh’s training, her exercise regimen would have fallen completely by the wayside. She had already walked some this morning, but was not about to let Killer loose on the beach. Having never seen a body of water larger than the kitchen sink, Killer wandered too close to the water’s edge almost becoming fish food in the process. He did not like the sand and had constantly whined for her to carry him. She had been threatening to rename him Wimpy which garnered a stronger than usual reaction from him. He actually growled and snapped at her for the first time in ages. She guessed the little guy had jet lag as he sat at her feet staying under the cover of the lounge chair.

“Anyone using this chair?”

She heard the voice through the pounding in her brain.

“Trey! It is good to see you,” she said turning her cheek just before he kissed her. Feeling his kiss land just to the right of her lips, it missed the mark he was aiming for, she was sure. Yet, somehow she did not want him to kiss her on the mouth. “You got my message, I see,” she said with more gusto than she actually felt as Trey sat down beside her.

Toned and tan, she could tell he was very accustomed to the beach lifestyle, fitting right in with the other sun lovers.

He sat down sideways on the chair next to hers holding her hand between his. “I’m glad you changed your mind about coming. Do I dare hope it is my company you are longing for and not just a break away from your sheriff?”

His tone was not exactly accusatory, yet she felt he already know the answer.

“He is not my sheriff and it seemed like a good idea at the time,” she said squinting, shading her eyes as best she could and noticing for the first time the two strange looking characters hovering by the concession stand. They did not exactly have the look of the Fae; nevertheless, there was something familiar about them.

“Now, I presume you are having second thoughts?” he asked with a more serious look than she had ever seen him display.

“Coming was not a bad idea, Trey. Coming for two weeks was a bad idea. I’m hung over and I’m already turning pink from the sun. At this rate I’ll be totally fried by Wednesday even with SPF85.”

“It’s your heritage, Jamie.”

“What do you know of my heritage?” she asked almost alarmed. Could she have misjudged him? Was Josh right? Did he know something?

“By all appearances you’re Western European descent, Love. Irish. English. In other words you have a fair complexion and spend too much time indoors examining artifacts which are only getting older by the minute, and as a direct result you are not getting enough time to yourself to enjoy the fresh air.”

“Well, you have me on that one,” she conceded taking in a reassuring breath.

He was right on all accounts.

“Come. Walk with me.” Trey held out his hand for her to take, assisting her to stand.

Rather than waste energy posturing with a front desk clerk, Josh immediately asked to see the on duty manager just as soon as he entered the hotel. Producing the contract Jamie signed giving him unlimited access to any dwelling she was currently occupying, the manager reluctantly agreed to move them to a room of suites and gave up the key to both her existing room and the room he fully intended to share with her until he could get her to come home.

Josh knew she was down at the beach, so he quickly let himself into her room. The quicker he repacked and moved her things the better. He had no illusions of what her reaction would be. He had a plan to counter that as well. It was called an apology, flowers, and a chewy toy for Killer. If that did not work, then he would just take his chances on her using his service firearm to put a bullet between his eyes. It was no less than he deserved.

However, if she really wanted to punish him she would allow him to live.

He was miserable.

Somewhere along the way, she had crawled under his skin and parked; her absence left a gaping hole in his psyche beyond anything he had ever felt possible.

Stopping in mid stride, he paused by the room service tray. Pulling the small, empty bottle of wine out of the now melted bucket of ice, he noticed for the first time there were two glasses not just one. Before today that might have sent him over the edge. However, he was back in control and it was more than just from the fact he knew Trey had recently arrived on the scene.

He had experienced an epiphany on the flight out. Sitting in aisle seat C, he found himself for the three hour flight from Dallas pinned between three elderly sisters who were seated in seats A, B and D. They were funny and engaging, and convinced him with sickening ease that Jamie was his destiny and cheered him on for his valor and guts for going after her. The younger of the three winked while making him a solemn promise that she would take him if Jamie did not see fit to forgive him and or recognize he was a prime catch.

She placed her arthritic hand on his arm wisely advising him that it really did not matter what happened between the moment he first laid eyes on her and the moment he made her his wife. In the end she would be his for life, and that no matter how long or short that life might be, it would be a life fuller just because he found her in it.

As he looked into eyes still bright in spite of her age, he felt it inside, a paradigm shift, things aligning into a clear perspective. He thanked her, placing his own hand over hers. Something happened to him as he touched her. It became clear how he had wronged Jamie in more than just one way. He became physically ill, putting the feeling down to too much coffee and a sudden change in altitude of the flight. Hurting Jamie had a lot to do with that sick, sinking feeling as well.

“It is fate, Josh,” she had said quietly and patting him reassuringly. “Trust in your destiny, and in doing so, you can help Jamie more than any other way. But first you must believe. She will see her way clear, my dear.”

The older of the three then chimed in, “And if not, then just offer up your body as a sacrifice. It is the least you can do for the poor girl.” She giggled at the double meaning. Josh turned red. That was a first.

Moments later he felt better than he had felt in years. Feeling stronger and more in control were just the beginnings of the changes he felt happening inside him. He was on a mission, and Jamie’s safety was bringing it all into sharper focus as they touched down in Miami.

So what if there were two glasses on the cart? He was ashamed to know he had driven her to the very thing she was so resistant to do before. By all accounts, she was suffering greatly for that act this morning.

Again, totally his fault.

Charles, her Miami based bodyguard, reported to him she was severely hung over from the single small bottle of wine which for a normal person would not produce more than just a decent little buzz. Charles, with great amusement, also reported how most of the morning she coupled Josh’s name to some pretty torturous, if not totally ingenious acts, united with some very harsh expletives. It made him smile. She was a fighter, and as much as he hated to see her suffering, deep down he knew his breaking her faith in him was hurting her more than any hangover ever could. The effects of the wine would quickly pass. His breaking her trust would not.

The only consolation to all this was the fact she still cared. Otherwise, she would not give him another thought and allow Trey to continue pursuit, an act she may do anyway for the simple reason Trey always treated her with respect, honoring her feelings as a person and as a woman.

He conceded she could do worse than Trey. He seemed like a nice enough guy; rich, good looking, and a responsible citizen. Trey could definitely take good care of Jamie, but she would never do better than himself.

Tom Owens’ words echoed in his head: “Women like her and my Eloise are the best thing a guy like you and me will ever hope to have giving us a second look.”

Wise words, Josh conceded with little argument feeling the hackles rise on the back of his neck in spite of his brave and genuine resolve to tolerate Trey’s presence in Jamie’s life in whatever form she chose.

Sliding the glass balcony door open, he stepped out to see if she were still seated down by the beach. Charles had not alerted him to her moving, and he could see her legs stretched out on the lounge chair with her upper body covered by the massive beach umbrella. Resisting the sudden urgent desire and need to hop the balcony and go to her, he distracted himself by scanning the beach and horizon. All was quiet, maybe even too quiet. He knew that would soon change as the day wore on, but for now, all he saw was a kite flyer, a couple of surfers catching some early morning waves, a few beach combers, and the guy with the medal detector hoping for the literal gold ring.

Two wave-runners up on the beach caught his eye. The occupants curiously absent. Several larger yachts slowly bobbed in the tide off shore in the calmer waters just a couple of hundred yards farther out. The wave-runners were probably from one of those and the owners were the two combers. That made sense, he guessed.

By all accounts, it was just a typical morning on South Beach. The two by the concession stand deserved a closer look, and radioing the other three guards, he sent them off in that direction.

Closing the door, he continued to repack, moving her to another room. He then felt it was prudent to fall back into the shadows for a little while, leaving it to Charles to inform Jamie the hotel was upgrading her.

Charles laughed at his request. He was smart enough to see the possible reaction and had refused to be the bearer of the news that she now had a suitemate. Like it or not, the confrontation was imminent. Just for good measure, Josh slipped in his proverbial body armor. If she shot daggers, he was prepared.

However, first things first. He had to make a phone call.

Jacob Farrell, King of the Maji, an ancient race of shape shifters, sat behind his desk looking sadly at a stack of items needing his attention. He desperately needed a vacation or a diversion at the very least. Seven children, all girls, and a demanding job as leader of his race were taking a toll.

The intercom was buzzing and if his assistant told him there was one more person needing a piece of him, he was going to leap from his balcony, straight to his death. He imagined it could not be any worse than the day had already been up to that point.

He threw his head back against the high back headrest of his executive chair and prayed to the god of his people. “Please, Val’Lahon, give me a break. What now?” he barked into the speaker only seconds after depressing the button.

“Sir, there is a Josh McKinnon on the phone for you. Shall I tell him you are indisposed?”

Jacob really did not like his assistant much on a personal level. She was extremely proficient, but a racist, who was biased against their human counterpart as well as the other lesser-known races inhabiting the earth. However, in a very savvy political move, he appointed her to the position in order to gain her adopted father’s vote in an instrumental amendment to the Constitution of the People of the Maji. He would put up with a little hauteur for the accomplishment.

“No, I’ll take this one.” Jacob felt his prayer just might be answered. If a McKinnon was calling, then chances were great there was some diversion on the other end.

“Hello, Josh. It has been a while.” Jacob felt his heart begin to beat faster at the potential prospect of an amusement. It had been too long since he had any excitement in his life. Having seven daughters was more drama than exhilaration more often than not. Even if his life was far from dull, it was draining just the same.